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Author’s Note: To those that have been waiting for this, the sequel to Pt. 09, I regret the delay in publishing – it has taken a while for those finishing touches to come to fruition, but I hope it was worth waiting for.
Subsequent chapters WILL follow, but I cannot confirm any timeframe for now …
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SATURDAY EVENING
By the time May was ready to come indoors, it was late afternoon. I had seemingly provided her with an endless supply of liquid refreshment, be it coffee, water or tea, and similarly orgasms, albeit in reality she’d only had two of those!
As May entered the kitchen in her flip flops and beach cover-up, she said ‘I’ve finished outside, you can put everything away and run me a bath …’
‘Yes Ma’am’ I replied, nodding in servitude to her instructions.
I stepped outside, clipping across the patio for the umpteenth time in my short tight skirt and high heels, and bent over to pick up her suntan lotion, magazine and beach towel. Again I immediately recognised my mistake, as the huge plug was forcibly readjusted deep within my body, causing me to gasp aloud. I was coming to realise that May’s use of the anal plug was effective as I immediately stood straight again, and instead bent my knees to access the bits that needed bringing in, which of course was so much more ‘demure and lady-like’.
I was gradually learning, but evidently not quickly enough ….
With everything put away, I ran her a bath, adding a splash of scented oils for good measure, before calling down ‘your bath’s ready, Ma’am!’
I heard nothing back, so with a frustrated sigh, I descended the stairs, my legs and feet now aching constantly: I just wanted these damn heels off, which I knew perfectly well was impossible without the key. I found May sitting nonchalantly in her front room, her iPad on her lap.
She looked up as entered, and said, very calmly, ‘you never call out to me Paula, you will ALWAYS come and find me …’ in that tone of voice that offered zero room for negotiation.
‘Sorry Ma’am’, I responded, and repeated ‘your bath is now ready, Ma’am’ in a demure and respectful voice.
‘That’s more like it’ May said, easing herself out of her armchair, her barely concealed body moving lithely beneath her semi-translucent beach cover-up, ‘you can make yourself useful and wash me in the bath’.
‘Er … yes Ma’am …’ I hesitantly replied, somewhat surprised at this intimate suggestion.
‘Please Ma’am …’ I hesitated again.
‘Yes, what is it Paula?’
‘Please can I get undressed? The boots are crippling me, and the corset …’ I began, a little breathlessly.
‘I suppose so’ May interrupted, ‘especially as you’ll probably end up getting a little wet …’
‘Thank you Ma’am’, I said, breathing out a huge sigh of relief.
May turned away, and with a ‘you can follow me’, headed upstairs.
I followed, a pace or two behind, gazing intently at her deliciously naked cheeks swaying beneath her flimsy cover-up, and catching the occasional glimpse of her smooth and tantalising vaginal lips as she mounted the stairs, one by one.
In the bedroom, May magically produce a small key ring, and came over to unlock the rubber collar around my head, unbuckling it and at the same time unzipping and untying the lacing around the rear of the hood, loosening the stretchy material.
‘Oh you poor thing’ she said in an empathetic tone, as she removed my hood.
My hair was plastered wet beneath, and my face almost dripping: I could see the inside of the rubber hood glistening with my perspiration as she pulled it away from my face.
‘I’d forgotten how hot latex can get’ she continued, ‘especially in this weather. Maybe you should lie down in the basement …’
‘What’s with the basement, Ma’am’ I asked, somewhat perplexed, and rubbing my finger tips through my matted hair, glad to feel the freedom of air around my temple.
‘Well, it’s always cooler down there at this time of year’ May replied. ‘It’s my wine store … next to the craft room and play room.’
I came to a sudden realisation that the appearance of May’s home from the exterior was very deceptive. My own neighbouring property certainly didn’t contain any sort of ‘basement’, nor indeed a play room or craft room or wine store. I was a little puzzled by the fact a ‘play room’ even existed, but I guessed that with time, all would be revealed. Little did I know what lay ahead …
‘Let’s get you undressed’ she said, ‘you can bath me naked.’
I breathed a sigh of relief: I was desperate to remove these agonising heels, the constrains of the corset, and even lose my weighty breasts. I unbuckled and unzipped the tight material of my skirt, wriggling and let it drop to the floor, before stepping to one side. The buttons on the blouse were quickly undone, and I shrugged this off my shoulders as this too dropped to the floor.
May knelt by my knees, unlocking the four padlocks, two to each boot, before standing around my back and unknotting the lacing at the rear of the corset.
‘There, you can manage the rest, I’ll be in the bath when you’re done’ she said, and left gorukle escort to enter the bathroom.
I quickly sat on the bed, unzipping the boots and slipping them off my stockinged feet, grateful for the immediate easing of my lower leg muscles, joints and tendons. The corset followed, although I struggled for a while trying to sufficiently loosen the rear lacing so I could unclip the busk at the front. I felt, for the first time in hours, I could breathe properly.
Unclipping the suspenders, I cast the corset to one side, before carefully rolling the fine nylon of each stocking down my leg and off my foot. I left my (bone dry) panties in place, giving me a semblance of cover.
Finally I removed both weighty breast forms, laying them on the bed, before rotating and unhooking the multiple clips of the longline bra, which followed suit. I was left naked save for my chastity cage and flimsy thong. Oh, and the butt plug, although in fairness this wasn’t visible!
I joined May in the bathroom, feeling rather self-conscious. My wonderful feminine disguise of moments ago had been almost completely stripped, and I felt a perculiar loss of identity, as well as being very exposed.
May was lying in the steaming bath with her hair tied up as I entered, water lapping at her pierced nipples, with her shaven slit and navel jewellery barely visible beneath the bubbles floating on the surface.
Sitting up, May said ‘you can work you way down with this’, handing me a bar of sweet smelling soap, and a ‘start with my neck.’
I lathered my fingers and palms, and placed them around her slender neck, massaging the soap around her nape and throat, relishing the intimacy of the moment, before moving my hands across to each shoulder, my fingers rotating in small circles. She lifted one arm up, allowing me to soap its length and beneath her armpit, before raising the other for the same treatment. Then my hands slipped down to her breasts, the soapy suds making my fingers slip easily as I cupped each in turn, before returning to her thickening nipples, feeling her metal studs flitter along my finger tips.
‘Mmmm’ May exclaimed, ‘that feels nice!’
She shrugged my hands away after a few seconds, dunked herself in the water, and then pushed herself up grabbing the sides of the bath, standing before me with legs slightly apart. I didn’t need asking, and soaping my hands again, proceeded to wash down her lower chest and flat stomach, fingers now brushing around her navel piecing, before easing across each hip, and finally delving down her lower stomach and between her thighs. I palmed her crotch, running her lips between my fingers, feeling the bulge of her nodule run along the heel of my hand, as I soaped her down there.
May pushed my hand away, saying ‘not now Paula’, and tottered round in a small semi-circle for me to wash her back.
I repeated the process, my soapy hands running around her waist and down the small of her back, before cupping a buttock in turn, my fingers running down the cleft between her pert round cheeks, the tips brushing past her puckered orifice.
I don’t know what took over – maybe it was my slippery fingers, maybe it was the recollection of what she did to me on Wednesday … was it really only four days ago … but I poked my soapy index finger upwards at the entrance to her tight passage, and I slid it most the way in to my knuckle.
‘You bitch ‘ May gasped out loud, a hand reaching out to support herself on the tiled wall, as she thrust herself backwards slightly, impaling my finger deeper still, issuing a moan of delight.
I felt her sphincter clench tightly around the base of my upthrust finger, while she let out another low moan, before straightening her knees, my finger slipping all the way out.
‘Not now, I told you!’ she said, sitting back down in the bath with a splash, her face and chest flushed a slight tinge of red.
I was, perhaps, a little disappointed, but at the same time a frisson of excitement shuddered through me: May clearly had a ‘weak’ spot, which I looked forward to exploiting at some future stage!
A ‘Well … come on Paula, we haven’t got all night …’ shook me from my passing thoughts, as she raised one leg out the bath.
I liberally soaped my hands, before taking her foot, and easing my index finger between her various toe joints. My thumbs then centred on her feet, fingers encircling her heel, before gradually making their way over her shin and calf towards her exposed knee before she submerged that leg, raising the other for the same treatment.
I’ve never really been into women’s feet particularly, but in the process of washing May’s, for whatever reason, I found this surprisingly erogenous. The pressure within my steel cage rose another notch. Whereas I had never before contemplated sucking a woman’s toe or toes, here I was actually reflecting that it might be a very tantalising prospect.
‘Mmmmm’ she uttered briefly, before pulling her foot away and raising the other leg.
I repeated the process.
‘Hand me the towel’ May said, pushing herself up from the bath, and activating the bursa görükle escort drain plug in one practiced movement. ‘You can clean the bath and take a shower afterwards …’ she continued, looking me up and down.
I glanced quickly at my reflection in the heated mirror, seeing my hair still somewhat matted around my scalp, the slight welts across each shoulder where the bra straps had supported my weighty breastforms, and the indentation marks around my lower chest, waist and hips from the stringent inflexibility of the leather corset. Below that, the glint of the steel cage beneath the sheer black panties twinkled in the bright lights, and it was reassuring to see no evidence of any damp patch: May’s capped urethra tube was clearly serving its purpose!
Pulling her towel off the rail, I passed this over to her, gazing admiringly at her dripping wet naked body before she covered it up with the fluffy cotton, and stepped out on to the floor mat.
With a ‘I’ll leave you to it …’, May left the bathroom.
I quickly cleaned the bath, rinsing it out with the shower attachment, before taking my own shower within the adjacent glass cubicle, and drying myself off. It felt a relief to wash myself down, especially my hair and face, which had spent far too long beneath the hot sweaty latex rubber. I took exceptional care washing around my eyes, concerned that my long lashes might peel away and disappear down the drain.
Once dry, I slipped on the silky robe May had worn earlier that morning: it was either that or the translucent babydoll hanging on the rear of the bathroom door, and I felt significantly less exposed in the former garment.
I exited the bathroom, expecting to find May in the bedroom, but when she wasn’t there, I called out ‘Ma’am …?’ in a loud voice.
There was an immediate response – a strong vibration deep within my body!
‘Oh shit’ I thought, having completely forgotten our conversation of earlier … I had to find her, and not be prone to calling out! I carefully descended the stairs, the internal vibrations continuing unabated, checked out her living room, before finding her in the kitchen.
‘That’s more like it Paula’ May said, the vibration instantly ceasing.
‘Er … I’m sorry Ma’am, I forgot!’
May had prepared a simple dinner, which was already plated and on the table, and she nodded to my seat with a ‘looks like we are going to have to try harder, doesn’t it?’
I nodded in response, and sat down gingerly, the thick rubber adjusting itself inside me, wondering if I would get reproached for wearing her silk gown. She was dressed in a light cotton t-shirt and a pair of loose cotton shorts, and didn’t comment on my mode of attire as we ate our meal in silence.
When we were finished, she looked up and said ‘you can clean up, I’ll be in the living room.’
I duly undertook the household chores, hearing the sound of her television in the background as I washed, rinsed and dried everything before returning the items to their rightful place. A quick wipe down and I was done, and joined May in the living room, sitting down carefully in my normal place on the sofa.
‘We are progressing well Paula’ May said, putting her program on hold, and continued with ‘however we still have far to go! I’m going to show you another stage on your journey, but you’ll have to pay attention, as you will need to practice this several times a month …’
I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but reluctantly acknowledged her by nodding.
‘Back to the kitchen with you, Paula. I’ll need to use the kitchen table, so you can wait for me there.’
May switched off the TV and disappeared upstairs, while I padded to the kitchen in my bare feet, and sat down once again on one of the stools around the table, feeling the discomfort deep within. I was somewhat apprehensive of what might be in store, given my various ordeals during the day.
May appeared moments later with a ‘here we are, I’m pretty sure I’ve got all I need.’
She placed a hand towel and small toiletry bag on the table, before sitting opposite me, and spreading the towel over the wooden table top.
‘Place your hands on the top of the towel’ she said to me, reaching out for my left hand as I did so. She turned it palm up to start, before rotating it palm down.
Rummaging through her toiletries bag, May produced a number of implements with which I had scant acquaintance: files, curved scissors, objects on sticks, a couple of small plastic cases, as well as two small bottles of nail varnish, one bright red, the other translucent.
‘To work’ she said, buffing the flats of my nails with one of her slender files, which had the semblance of a wooden lollipop stick, although larger in size: ‘the state of your nails … tsk, tsk!’.
After some moments, she reached for a stick implement, with which she shaped and rounded my cuticles. I watched intently with a degree of fascination, knowing that I would be expected to carry out this routine at some stage. I found the process actually quite relaxing and mesmerising, almost therapeutic.
The whole process was repeated for the fingernails of my right hand.
May set her files and sticks aside, and flipped the lids off the two boxes: using a pair of tweezers, she sought out five nails to fit over the existing nails of my left hand, flipping from one nail to the next, until she was satisfied with the match, laying each false nail in its appropriate order, and then repeated the process with my other hand.
With a dab of glue on my own nail, and similarly on the back of the false nail, she carefully positioned this in place, and held it securely for ten seconds: I knew it was this duration because she counted to ten each time this process was repeated.
‘I think we’ll need to trim them down a bit’ May said when she was finished. ‘You might find they need some getting used too, and while eventually you WILL get used to them, we will start off with a slightly shorter length …’
I nodded as May started to trim my almond-shaped nails in quick succession, and then filing them a little so they all looked flawless. When she’d finished, they were perfect in every respect, and almost half as long again as my original nails.
‘And now’ she went on, ‘la pièce de résistance!’
She shook the bottle of red nail varnish, and uncapped it, revealing a small brush attached to the cap covered in bright red. Carefully, and with concentration, she painted each nail in turn using even, quick brush strokes: it was evident she was used to performing this.
‘Voila’ she exclaimed at last, ‘just keep your hands where they are for five minutes until everything dries off, and I’ll add a coat of clear lacquer.’
I sat still, gazing at my newfound feminine addition of beautiful painted nails: they made my fingers look slender and longer, and I was surprised at this simple but effective transformation.
‘Thank you Ma’am’ I said, voicing my appreciation, ‘they look beautiful.’
‘They’ll last you a day or so, Paula, so I hope you’re working from home on Monday, otherwise you’ll have some explaining to do at the office …’
A sudden rush of panic came over me as I desperately tried to remember my agenda for the week ahead, and breathed a sigh of relief when I realised I wasn’t due in the office until the following day, Tuesday.
‘It’s Tuesday Ma’am’ I exhaled, ‘that’s when I’m back in the office …’
‘That’s fortuitous’ May said, packing away the litter of items from the table into her makeup bag, before picking up the second bottle of clear nail varnish.
The process for applying the clear lacquer over my nails took slightly less time than the base coat, and it didnt take long for May to finish.
‘They should be dry in the next few minutes’ she said, ‘but just be careful for the next half hour or so …’
I extended my right arm, stretching out my hand like I’d seen women do before, and admired her glossy red handiwork at the end of each finger, a frisson of feminine excitement coursing through my body.
‘Oh, and there’s one other thing …’ May said, interjecting my thoughts.
I looked up towards her; she was unclasping a thin gold bracelet from around her right wrist, and as it came undone, she approached my extended wrist, and furled the two ends around it, clipping it in position, and letting it dangle in place.
‘There, the perfect finishing touch!’
It was indeed, and for a few seconds I was entranced by the gold chain banding my wrist, beyond which my red nails gleamed beautifully. This simple accessory added yet another delightful sensual dimension to my hand and wrist, and I was not only captivated by the sight, but also seemingly ‘captivated’ by the spell May seemed to have cast over me. I felt humbled by this simple gesture …
We watched the evening news bulletin together, with me sat on the sofa and May in her usual armchair. I couldn’t help but keep glancing at my new nails, noticing their perfection, delighting in their colour. The nail varnish had totally cured now, and would be chip resistant. The gold bracelet around my right wrist constantly made its presence felt every time I moved my arm, reminding me, as if I needed reminding, that I now ‘belonged’ to May. But this simple item of jewellery did make everything look delightfully elegant and delicate …
‘Early night I think’ she said, after watching the weather bulletin which announced another glorious day for tomorrow.
May switched off the television, and rose gracefully from her chair. I followed suit, and as she led the way upstairs, she glanced briefly over her shoulder to tell me ‘you can use the bathroom first.’
I walked directly to the bathroom to prepare myself for the night, and follow my usual ritual: I reached for the plastic vial that was gradually filling with my copious ‘leakages’, and unscrewed the lid, realising this was more challenging than I was expecting with longer nails. I then went to unscrew the cap at the end of my cage, and this was when I understood the hinderance of having long nails: no longer could I use the tips of my forefinger and thumb as I was used to, but I now had to grip the small steel cap entirely differently. A degree more dexterity was required, but I eventually succeeded with a certain degree of awkwardness, almost knocking over the phial with my extended nails in my haste to grab it as the clear fluid slowly seeped from the end of the urethral tube.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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